


Mail Call

by onawingandaswear



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Guns, Humor, M/M, Sex Toys, everybody's got it out for James Bond, including James Bond, irritating coworkers, office gossip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-15
Updated: 2013-01-15
Packaged: 2017-11-25 16:01:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/640581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onawingandaswear/pseuds/onawingandaswear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eve leaves his office with a bounce in her step and apparently a story to tell, because word spreads quickly about the vibrator.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mail Call

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alexwhitewell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexwhitewell/gifts).



> Here's my gift for the fabulous blinkingkills on Tumblr! Hooray!  
> ...And now that I remember your Ao3 handle, alexwhitewell!
> 
> Update: alexwhitewell made art! Go here and marvel: http://goo.gl/mvdWj

Because it’s a day that ends in ‘y’, Q makes a quip about 007’s sexual prowess.

James Bond, as is customary, responds with an idle threat of bodily harm. Like the child he is, he says something about guns and triggers.

The next day there’s a courier delivered package on Bond’s desk, wrapped in festive snowflake tissue paper and smelling distantly of cloves.

It’s a 24k gold plated Magnum Research Desert Eagle; horribly gaudy and disgustingly beautiful at the same time, but goddamn it it’s a _golden gun._

No one can explain how it found it’s way through security undetected, and James has a hard time letting forensics take the thing to scan for prints because he knows he won’t be getting it back.

“Just be glad the package wasn’t loaded with C-4,” Mallory tells him dismissively when he asks after it. “Just go buy another one yourself, if it means that much to you.”

‘ _A man does not simply buy himself a gold plated gun,’_ he wants to tell M, but the words won’t come. Bond knows this is spite, pure and simple, because no military man would say such a thing about about a _gold-plated weapon_.

Bond just sits in his office after the meeting, occasionally looking to the drawer that holds his Walther PPK.

Q finds out about the Desert Eagle. 

Because it’s a day that ends in ‘y’, Q makes a quip about 007 overcompensating for decidedly ‘less-than’ physical assets.

 

* * *

 

First was the gun.

Now, this. Whatever it is.

Eve walks by and peeks in the box before letting out a distinctly unladylike snort; her hands flying to cover her mouth, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“What?” Bond asks looking from her to the box.

“Tell me you know what that is.” She coughs and straightens her shirt, trying to compose herself.

“No, I don’t know what this is or why it’s here.”

She snatches the small box from him and pulls the slender silver item from it’s packaging.

“One of my best mates got one of these as an engagement gift. James, it’s a Little Something vibrator. Really nice, top of the line.”

He only makes a face, unable to muster a response, and she pulls a small card from the plastic case and laughs.

“Was this meant for you?”

“I can only assume so. Though I’m not entirely certain I’ll be using it on myself.” He means to sound coy, but his wit is failing him horribly. Christ, a vibrator?

“Did that sound as bad as I think it did?”

She nods sympathetically, but stays Bond’s hand when he means to throw the offending item in the bin.

“Don’t be too quick to toss it.” 

She flips the vibrator around and holds it close to Bond’s face. He can only assume she’s trying to show him the glittering crystals embedded in the metal.

“This is the ‘ _Little Platinum Eternity_ ’ model. It’s diamond encrusted.”

“You’ve got to be joking.”

“Nope. Someone must like you a lot to buy you a three-thousand pound vibrator.” 

Eve leaves his office with a bounce in her step and apparently a story to tell, because word spreads quickly about the vibrator.

And because it’s a day that ends in ‘y’, Q makes a quip about 007 needing ‘a little extra stimulation’.

 

* * *

 

Eve starts stopping by his office around mail time. Something about all the anonymously delivered sex toys.

 

* * *

 

James opens the box slowly, looks inside at the oddly sized circle of gold, sighs, and tilts it toward Moneypenny.

“Is that what I think it is?”

She nods.

“Yes. That is a cock ring.”

“Of course it is.”

She’s quiet for a moment, then makes her way to the door. 

“You aren’t seeing anyone, are you? That might explain-”

“I am not seeing anyone.”

“Alright then. Maybe you should consider it, given all of the sex toys you’ve acquired.”

“You can feel free to leave whenever. I’m fairly confident you’re still employed here.”

“Just a suggestion. Something to think about.”

“Do me a favor, would you? Don’t tell Q about this.”

Eve shrugs. 

“I never speak to him about these things, but I think he’s the one scanning post packages now.”

“Hooray.”

  

* * *

 

Turner tells him he’s needed in subbasement two. Q wants to speak with him about something.

Because it’s a day that ends in ‘y’, Q makes a quip about 007 being ‘a little quick on the draw.’

Bond dumps his coffee on Q’s laptop and salutes the sparking machine as the Quartermaster looks on in horror.

“What?” Bond asks. “I could have just shot you.”

Because it’s a day that ends in ‘y’, Q keeps his mouth shut.

 

* * *

 

Eve is sitting across from James watching him cut the packing tape from the latest delivery.

“I’m just waiting for one of these to be packed with C4, or spiders or anything conventional.”

“Spiders?”

“It’s been a long day and a girl can dream.”

There are two brightly wrapped boxes inside, one that reads _For James_ and the other _For Ms. Moneypenny._

Eve leans back in her seat an scowls.

“This one was scanned, right?”

James nods tightly and hands her the small box, but not before turning it over in his hands gently.

“Well, if I have to go out someway, let it be opening a gift.”

She pulls the paper away and reveals a plain jewelry box.

“Well this is promising,” she opens it slowly and swears before clicking the box closed.

“What?”

“Nothing. Open yours. Now.”

Bond’s jewelry box is smaller, but bears the same design as Eve’s. She leans across the desk to watch him open it, and he doesn’t know what he’s expecting when the contents prove to be oddly shaped cufflinks.

“Are those...?”

“Hourglasses.”

Eve grabs for James’ computer and logs onto the internet.

“What did you get?”

“A necklace.” She says, eyes trained on the monitor.

“May I?”

“Feel free. I want to make sure I’m not going to die if put it on.”

Bond unlocks the latch slowly and reveals an emerald green stone in the shape of a heart, above it a short note is stitched into the silk cushion the necklace rests on.

_In the end we are all just following orders. Thank you for missing his heart._

“Christ, you think it’s real?”

Eve turns the monitor to James and shows him a split screen: on one side the emerald heart and on the other black diamond hourglass cufflinks. Both items courtesy of Jacob & Co.

They both sit in silence for several minutes, examining the small treasures.

“Maybe I should not kill you more often. Perhaps get a Jaguar for my exemplary exercises in restraint, because that is an eleven carat emerald, and whoever bought it is thanking me for being a terrible shot under duress.”

“At least no sex toys today.” Bond concedes, turning the glittering cufflinks over in his hand.

“At least there’s that.” Eve agrees, holding the necklace up to the light.

 

* * *

 

Mallory finds out about the jewelry and confiscates it, damning it to the same evidence hell as the Desert Eagle.

“You work for an intelligence agency. God knows where these bloody things are coming from. Until further notice, no in-house deliveries from unverified sources.”

When he leaves, Eve is sitting at her desk, looking heartbroken.

“At least you got to keep yours.” She mutters, eyes trained on a report.

“I’m sorry, would you like the platinum plated vibrator? Seeing as you have so much use for it?”

She flips him the bird but her lips quirk up in a smile.

“Maybe this’ll be the end of it,” he continues, casting a look at M’s closed office door. “No more embarrassing parcels.”

She nods in agreement.

“No more parcels. Though I will take the vibrator if you’re not using it, seeing as I make less than you and can hock it later.”

“Fine. Swing by my place tonight and you can take it off my hands.”

 

* * *

  

Eve never stops by, but around midnight James’ mobile rings.

“Where are you?”

“Downstairs. Come outside.”

“I’m,” Bond looks down at himself, taking note of his bare chest and sleep pants. “I’m not decent, just come up.”

“I don’t care if you’re stark naked and fully erect, get down here now.”

He sets his book aside and grabs a jacket.

“Do I need shoes?” He asks her, balancing on one foot to pull on an unlaced boot.

“Yes. I’m parked on the street.”

“You don’t have a car.” 

She doesn’t have a car.

“I do now. Get down here.”

 

* * *

 

He jaunts down the steps, feet slipping a bit without socks and walks into the cool night air to see Eve, practically shaking with excitement.

“It was there when I got home,” she says brightly. “The dealer was waiting for me as proof the vehicle hadn’t been tampered with and everything; but I did a full inspection myself and took it to a mechanic and it checks out.”

Bond lets his gaze slide from Eve to the silver Jaguar XKR coupe.

“Didn’t spring for the sport package, did they? Shame.”

“Shut it. I thought it was going to explode when I put the keys in the ignition _but it didn’t._ ” She coos the last part of the sentence at the car like a proud parent.

“And there was a note.” She hands Bond a folded piece of computer paper bearing the dealership’s letterhead.

_Shame about the necklace. Try this on instead, might be a better fit in the long run._

“Now that I’m done gloating, I’m going to go for a drive.”

“Try not to break off the mirrors this time.”

“Thanks, love!” Eve calls cheekily.

He spins on a heel and heads back inside, smiling at the roar of the Jaguar’s engine.

 

* * *

 

“Sorry about that. I was sure she wasn’t coming by tonight.”

James kicks off his shoes and throws his jacket onto the counter, filling a water glass before returning to the living room and throwing his legs up on the sofa. He picks up his book, the last page creased slightly, and sighs when deft fingers return to massage his calf.

“That was sweet. What you did for Eve.”

Raoul hums in agreement and moves to rub the arch of James’ foot lightly.

“I consider it a debt repaid.”

James lets his head fall back against the cushioned arm of the sofa and relaxes into the touch.

“One question, though.” 

“Yes?”

“Why exactly the gifts for me?”

Raoul smiles softly and tugs James by the ankle so the agent has to scoot closer.

“Perhaps I just like to spoil you,” he tickles James’ side lightly and laughs. “And perhaps I owe you several hundred thousand dollars in reparations for damage to personal property.”

“Perhaps that.”

“Yes. Perhaps.”

 


End file.
